Letter From Rose
by Frostfyre
Summary: The scene between Scythe and Rose when the latter wakes up after her brother Sparrow chooses Love at the Tattered Spire.


**I know what you're thinking- "Frostfyre, you have to finish Lich Child! AHHH!" Master Sparkee is at least. Anyway, Scythe is William Black in this fic because we ALL know Scythe is William Black. Oh, and a little side note- canonically, Sparrow is a male. Just thought you would like to know.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fable, no matter how much I would love to.**

_"No!" Rose shouted as the bullet left Lucien's gun, implanting itself in her body. Lucien turned his gun from her to Sparrow, the latter backing up slowly with his hands in the air, as though that would save him. Another shot rang out through the tower and Sparrow was thrown out of the window from the momentum of the bullet. Rose watched in slow horror as her little Sparrow seemed to be flung in slow motion, breaking the stained glass with his small body and falling, falling..._

_Somehow, she knew when he hit. She wasn't sure whether or not she felt it or heard it, but she knew when her brother's body slammed into the dirty, cold cobblestone street. __She started crying after that. Her mother, her father, and now her little Sparrow was gone forever…_

_Lucien looked down and seemed to notice Rose still lived. He frowned but said nothing as he aimed again, this time for her head instead of her heart, and fired. It all went horribly black after that._

"No!" Rose screamed, bolting upright. Blinking her eyes, the girl got up from her grassy bed. Surveying her surroundings, Rose groggily took in the endless trees, each far, far taller than even Sparrow would have-

Sparrow!

Looking around frantically, Rose shouted her little brother's name over and over, even running around aimlessly as though he would hear her then. Nothing! No Sparrow anywhere! He wouldn't be_ this_ cruel to leave her to worry about where he was. Well…he might be, but she doubted it. That did nothing to sooth her fraying nerves, however. Sparrow was gone, and that dream was wretchedly vivid. It even hurt.

Still running around aimlessly, she didn't even notice when she hit something very, very solid until too late. Falling on her back, Rose stared up into the absolute scariest face she had ever seem in her young life.

Scythe hadn't meant to scare the girl. Well, considering his decayed, walking corpse-like appearance, coupled with the huge scythe he carried and the fact the child had just woken up from death thanks to her Hero brother, he should have expected her to panic either and all ways. Staring down at Rose, Scythe kneeled down, looking her straight in the eyes.

"Hello," she said shakily. "Wha… wha do ya want?" Scythe smiled faintly at her before helping her up.

"To help you," he answered simply and honestly. Sparrow's 'older' sister tilted her head at him curiously.

"Why?" she asked bluntly. The speed at which she overrode her fear of him did not really surprise him- William "Scythe" Black had lived far too long to ever really be surprised anymore.

"I know your family," he explained vaguely. He watched as she quietly took in his blue robes, golden mail, and of course undead face. Slowly Rose nodded and he helped her up.

"You look like a king," she giggled. Scythe smiled again._ Archon, actually._ He did not voice his thoughts, however. "What's your name?"

"Scythe." Rose nodded at his answer. Considering the large weapon across his back, Scythe was a very appropriate name indeed. It seemed to vanish from her memory, though, and she asked him again, to which he repeated the answer. It left her once again. How strange.

Worry washed over Rose again, the brunette gasping a little. Scythe tilted his head concernedly. "Sparrow! Where's Sparrow?" Scythe sighed, quiet for a moment.

"To my knowledge, in Oakfield." Unless Theresa decided to expel the Fourth somewhere other than that, perhaps Samarkland along with Reaver and Garth or maybe the north with Hammer and the warrior monks, which Scythe sincerely doubted. Confusion settled on Rose's youthful face, and Scythe understood why- the girl had just woke up from dying, after all. The last twenty years were lost on her. "A lot has happened, young Rose. Far too much to explain now. All you need know is that Sparrow is safe, as are you. I suggest you go back to sleep." Yes, for now he would say she had simply dreamed it. Defiance crossed the girl's face before her eyes began to droop, and Scythe deftly picked her up as the girl rasped out one last question before unconsciousness claimed her.

"Will I ever see him again?" The old Archon began to walk back to his home as Rose slowly succumbed to sleep, forcing herself to stay awake long enough to hear the single word forming from decayed lips.

"Yes."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Two Months Later<strong>_

Sparrow walked out of the Cow and Corset, his faithful dog padding after his master. The Hero of Bowerstone was quickly reminded why he loved Bloodstone so much more than its polar opposite that he was forced to stay in currently for the simple reason that someone had said a guard needed help to rescue some slaves. Problem was, Wraithmarsh took forever to trudge through, thenhe made the bad mistake of sleeping in Garth's tower *shudder*, and to top it all off, some snot-nosed brat asked for his autograph, an autograph that never came and never would because Sparrow had more important things to do than give a child his signature. By the time he arrived, the slaves were gone, off to live their lives as someone else's property. The one good thing he did constantly for society, and society had to mess it all up. Ungrateful much?

Three civilians were mysteriously found dead a small while after Sparrow had learned he'd come for nothing. One had been electrocuted, one had been shot, and the last had been stabbed. Sparrow would admit to being evil. He liked being evil- stealing, murdering, getting paid to murder, watching people flinch at his terrible red eyes- it was his own little way to get back at the world for killing his sister. And relieving stress.

"S-sir," a young lad stuttered, tapping Sparrow on the leg. The Hero looked down at the boy with obvious irritation.

"I'm not signing anything," he growled instantaneously. Skorm knew what he would do if the boy still persisted…

"I-I k-know, s-sir," the boy stuttered again, holding something out to Sparrow. "A-a let-tter c-came f-for you, s-sir." So the boy wouldn't return home and become an orphan before his very eyes. Lucky lad. The child shoved the letter into Sparrow's hands before darting away, likely to tell his mother about 'Scary Sparrow' or something of that nature. Brat.

_Dear Sparrow._ Handwriting familiar from reading a book filled with it night after night captured his attention as he ripped open the envelope and began reading. Could it be?… He continued reading, just in case. Theresa had promised him everyone close would come back, and _she_ was most certainly the closest person to him. _Avo, please be her..._

_I woke up today in such a peculiar place._ It's like a great big forest, with lots and lots of trees that go on forever. I was scared at first because I couldn't find you, but there's someone here who says he knows us, says he knows our family. He told me his name, but I keep forgetting it. Weird. I think he's a king or something. He's very thin and wears a hood and looks scary, but he's nice and I feel safe with him here. I hope you're okay Little Sparrow. Somehow I know that it's all going to be alright, and we'll be together again one day. He promised me.__

__Love__

__Rose__

**It had to take some time for the letter to reach Sparrow, right? That's what I thought. Isn't it nice I made him evil? Watching your sister die and nearly dying yourself would likely be a traumatic, 'The world sucks and will _pay in blood_!' experience to me.**

**Review, lovelies. Tatty-bye.**


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